Good Evening Freinds, Romans, Countrymen

Disclaimer: Don't ask about the title of this blog. It is simply rubbish and of no meaning to you or anyone else, myself included. Unless of course you are a Shakespeare buff and if that is the case I'm sure you will find this blog horribly disappointing. The dialogue is deplorable!

If tonight were Halloween I would be going, wherever it was I would be going, as an Irish writer like James Joyce or Roblert McLaim Wilson or one of the others. I'm drinking Bushmills. Not the whole bottle mind you, just a quarter or so and for some unknown reason I'm feeling a great deal of guilt and ire toward England although, I feel, the BBC has some really great programs on the telly.

This, as you can see from the time and date stamped on the blog, is New Years day 2010. (we always have a whole year to prepare and it still feels odd to write the new year.) Today I am celebrating like the rest of you celebrated last night because last night I was snowed in. I didn't think that happened in this day an age. Global warming and such. I guess that is what I get for living at the end of a 6 mile dirt road at almost 7000' elevation. Idiot!

Now, I tried to go out last night. I was invited to a party but on my way out I found myself stuck in a snow bank. Woohoo! (If you can't sense the sarcasm you should probably move on.) That usually has a tendency to put a bit of a damper on any evening, New Years or not. I tried calling both of my neighbors. Yes I only have two. Of course due to the fact that it was New Years Eve, they were not home! YAY! (again sarcasm) I got to spend the next 45 minutes digging myself out of this snow bank with my bare hands in a pair of Kenneth Cole burgundy shoes and a sport jacket. The issue about the shoes hadn't really occurred to me until, of course, I couldn't feel my toes! Finally, after a lot of rocking the vehicle back and forth, a few tears, prayers and spinning tires to the point that the foot of snow underneath had completely melted, the tires took hold of the glorious earth and the vehicle jolted out of the rut I was in (literally and figuratively) and I was back on the road. At this point, because I had not been to a party yet and had a drink, common sense kicked in and I decided that the best place for me would be home. I headed back to the house which was about 3 miles back up the dirt, snow infested (yes, at this point the snow, to me, felt like and infestation of some horrendous parasite.) pathway to loneliness and boredom!

Safely, I arrived back at the house to the excited tail of my dog, Hogan, in the door window. Talk about unconditional love. I should probably note that the time at this point was about 7PM. What to do?

The original plan was to eat something quickly on the road. That of course was out of the question so I b-lined it to the pantry. mmmm microwave mac and cheese, which should really be called what people say when they eat it, uuuuck. I decided on PB&J. You can never go wrong with PB&J unless of course the bread had contracted mold. Now, I'm not a slob and my house is pretty clean. This must have been a super mold because I ate toast out of that same loaf earlier that morning, mold free. At least I believe it was mold free. Usually when it comes to food I act first and ask questions later. Unless of course it is tomatoes. God? Why did you have to make tomatoes? Okay so I digress. I settled on a tortilla with cheese melted in the microwave. Down here in New Mexico they call that a "quesadilla". Me, I call it "you're poor, drunk or 6 years old".

On the couch with my "you're poor, dunk or 6 years old" and a ginger ale I decided I would watch the season 7 of 24. For those of you who have been living in a cave or don't believe in television, 24 is a show about a man named Jack Bauer who breaks every law, within the Geneva convention, to stop terrorist plots within a 24 hour period. I know what you are thinking, realistic. Not so much, as it turns out, but very entertaining. After about 3 episodes I found I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. How could this be with all this action? I forgot what day it was and decided bed was the best option. I took it! I had a feeling door number 2 was bleak an tiring.

Yes everyone I went to bed at 10PM on New Years Eve. I didn't even bother to watch the ball drop on TV. Just so you know, I slept well, until about 5:30 this morning when I was waken (is that even a word? It looks really odd.) abruptly by Hogan, who was very upset, come to find out, because he didn't get a stinking kiss and champagne at midnight. And all I thought he cared about was a full dish and chew toys! Oh well, I think I'll go have some "uuuuck" and strongly dislike myself.

One of my favorite artists

I'd like to punch Bill Ingvall in the tooth!

Tonight I went to the Albuquerque Young Professionals Christmas event. Yeah I'm a young professional you can stop laughing now. In fact, I found out tonight, I am young enough to be a young professional for another 5 years. WEEHOO! The Christmas Event was held at the Lucky 66 bowling alley. Which when I think of young professionals I think ... bowling alley. There is nothing like the faces of all the Bukowski's sitting at the bar when a bunch of young people in sport jackets and pant suits invade their territory. It's like walking into church wearing a Chippendale's outfit.

I also found out tonight why I haven't bowled since high school. First of all the balls are designed for either lumberjacks with ridiculously large hands or little children. I was forced to use a ball that I could fit two fingers in each of the holes and the thumb was so far away from the finger holes that mine could just barely grip the edge. Let me preface this next part with, I'm a fairly big guy and when I get moving I have, what scientists call, momentum. When coupled with smooth soled shoes and a greased up wood surface, trying to hurl a 16lb rock that I can't hang on to, bowling becomes more about not falling down than actually hitting the pins. This, my friends, is frustrating because I've always been good enough at most sports (skiing would be an exception and I can now add bowling to that list)that I never really embarrassed myself.

New Years resolution: I will not bowl until I am one of the Bukowski's sitting at the Lucky 66 bowling alley. That is a resolution I can keep.

Despite getting beat by the little french girl who had never bowled in her life, I had a good time because the company was good and the food was much better than expected. Who knew you could get good scallops and calamari in the middle of New Mexico? I'm sure they were actually rocky mountain oysters and spiders but it's good to pretend sometimes. It keeps you young ... and professional.

Okay time to sleep.

Oh yeah, Bill Ingvall drives me nuts and I want to punch him in the tooth! Does Serius radio really have to play him every 5 minutes?

Vid of the week

Well, Here I am! How do you like me so far?

I've considered myself many things and a writer is not on that list but I thought this might be a good way to combat insomnia. If I can literally bore myself to sleep with my stories maybe I can help you fall asleep too. It's a win-win as they say even though I have no idea who "they" really is.

So anyway, Like my "about me" section describes, I am a 35 year old guy and this blog is essentially my journal. My hope is that this journal will force me see the interesting things about life that happen every day but maybe I don't notice.

I guess I should clarify the name of the blog. One of my employees found a can of government supplied pork (in juices) and planted it in one of the work trucks so that I would find it. When I found it I had no idea what to think I just knew that the idea of gubm't pork was pretty funny. This can of pork has become our company mascot. it stays in the truck and travels to every job with us. When we take a picture of a completed project the can of gubm't pork is in the picture.


I have a dog. He poops in the tub (I'll get to that in a bit) and he is my best buddy. He does just about everything with me. He goes to work, he sleeps on the floor next to my bed and he sings along when I play the harmonica. His name is Hogan after Ben Hogan not Hulk. He is 1/2 hound 1/4 red heeler and 1/4 pitbull and 100% goofy. He is a little over a year old and has lived through Parvo, a rattlesnake bite and 4 days in the wilderness with one other dog when he was 5 months old. I wish he could talk and tell that story. I'm sure it would be pretty exciting. As I said he poops in the tub. Not always only when his neglectful owner doesn't realize he needs to go outside. I don't know where he learned that this would be the most appropriate place to do his business. He's seen me poop in the toilet but I try not to drink so much that I poop in the tub. All I can say is that I'm proud of him. I bet your dog doesn't have that kind of presence of mind. Yes I'm saying my dog IS better than your dog. Get over it! Okay maybe he 's not better. At least he wasn't today.



Today we made a trip to Petco because he came to work with me and stayed in the truck like a good dog and didn't complain once. I felt he was well deserving of a treat. About $30 later I was not feeling the same. Hogan has started to figure out how to mark his territory and he found a few toys he thought should be his, proceeded to lift his leg and give them a quick squirt! I was mortified but the elderly lady in the isle with us thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. She said she was going to suggest a different toy but he had obviously made up his own mind and did not care to listen to her advice. Because I thought we were just popping in for a quick treat and not going on a shopping spree I didn't need a cart. So I got to pick up the toys and carry them to the counter. I was not looking forward to the explanation I was going to have to give to the cashier. Fortunately, I think, the cashier didn't seem to notice at all while he handled the pee soaked doggy toys. How does that happen? I guess what I'm trying to say is you really aren't having a bad day until you are cleaning dog pee off of toys in a convenience store bathroom!